It's been a while yes... but law exams are hard, okay! Anyway, here goes the second, and last, part to this little adventure!

Holly - xo

As it turned out, the corridor ended after around a dozen steps and led the three young boys out into the Charms corridor on the third floor. They pushed through another tapestry at the end of the gloomy hall and found themselves in front of their own Charms classroom door.

"Handy, eh?" exclaimed Fred, grinning at the other two boys.

"I daresay that will save us some time in the future," replied George, mirroring his twin's grin.

"It will indeed," said Fred. "Right then, see ya!" and with a patronising pat on the shoulder and a flash of red, the twins turned and ran down the corridor – leaving a dumbfounded Lee Jordan abandoned in the corridor.

It only took him a few moments to realise that he was alone in a dark corridor, and would be in serious trouble if he was found there. So with a rapidly quickening heartbeat, Lee turned and ran in the opposite direction from the twins and continued running until he passed through the Fat Lady's portrait entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

It was at least an hour before Lee calmed himself – and his brain – down enough to fall asleep; and his identical red-headed roommates still hadn't returned. His dreams were filled with menacing red tennis balls raining around him that night.

It drove him mad. Mad in the "how can they pretend that nothing happened?" kind of way. Lee had spent most of the following morning deviating between glaring at and trying to gain the attention of Fred and George Weasley. So then, by lunch (when they hadn't even nodded in his direction when he sat down across from them) Lee was very much tired of this.

He was ready to confront them, but they were sitting closely together, having a hushed conversation – really not looking like they would like to be interrupted. Lee had seen them work in class, and it wasn't that they weren't good, but he certainly wasn't afraid of them overpowering his own magic, if anything were to become confrontational.

The Weasley twins were powerful in a different way. Even in the few weeks they had attended Hogwarts, they had already proved to be setting themselves up for a reputation. A person could really hate them for how they so effortlessly did anything that was challenged to them, yet mess around and act like it was nothing at the same time. Or how they caused more trouble for the teachers than was almost humanly possible, but the Professors had fallen for their charm anyway. Or even how everybody in first year (and most of the upper years) knew their name and called out "hello!" whenever they passed, and despite their clear popularity they still kept mostly to themselves.

Lee was intimidated by these boys because of their social power; they were unpredictable and were the kind of people that everybody would listen to, so who knew what could happen in any kind of public conversation with them – which was why Lee simply sat down, shut up, and waited for them to come to him.

Lee had almost entirely forgotten about the strange late-night escapade he'd gone on with the Weasley twins the week following the event, when they finally approached him. But that's typical of how the world works isn't it; as soon as you stop looking for something, it finds you. It had been surprisingly easy to do as, despite sharing a dorm, he never actually saw them apart from occasionally at meal-times and at the back of their classrooms. They always returned to the dormitory late at night and slept late in the mornings, so Lee never actually crossed their paths.

He was sitting at the rear of the Gryffindor common room, alone at one of the study-tables, trying (with much emphasis on the 'trying' part) to complete an essay for History of Magic without hitting his head repeatedly on the rich oak panelling on the wall behind him.

Goblins and Wizards don't get on, we get it! Lee thought frustratingly to himself as he inked yet another line on how a broken deal had lead to a massacre on both sides. He continued to mumble aggravated versions of "who cares" to himself, before his reverie was abruptly interrupted by two identical young boys dumping a black school bag on the desk in front of him with a rattling clunk.

"Homework? Well, that goody-goody-ness simply cannot be privy to this conversation." Fred tutted and shook his head to himself before pulling up a chair and sitting directly across from Lee.

"I totally agree, brother. This is quite a delicate subject" said George. He mirrored Fred's actions and then gently pulled the quill out of the shell-shocked Lee's hand, put the lid on his bottle of ink and rolled up his parchment. He sat it to the side and continued: "Now that's out of the way, let's get started."

Lee blinked and shook his head. "Wait, what? What do you want?" He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the mischievous-looking brothers sitting across from him. He didn't want any trouble, and that's what these boys were all about.

"We're letting you know how your plan went, of course?" said Fred absentmindedly as he started fumbling with the zip on the bag (which made Lee eye it suspiciously as if it might blow up).

"What plan?" Lee frowned and leaned forward on the table; he did not like the sound of this.

"The plan… to get all of this!" replied Fred, and he turned the bag upside down, causing the contents to spill out onto the table.

Lee stared at the pile of bits-and-bobs that were now littering his study space – it just looked like a pile of junk. What the hell did he have to do with any of this?

"Uh, I bloody don't think so–"

"Okay, fine, you gave us the idea for the plan," said George, cutting him off. "We meant to go about with the plan that we had for Filch, but after we left you, we ran into McGonagall – which resulted in loosing house points and a half-hour lecture on how she's letting us off lightly because it was our first 'offence'." He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but she was totally giving me the eyes - all angry and dishevelled looking in her tartan night-gown." Fred winked.

"But then how did you do it?" Lee said, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"It was awful having to resort to such crude actions – but needs must. Fred set off a dungbomb right in front of Filch so that he'd take him directly to his office. Then I set off another right above them when I knew they were there, giving Freddie enough time to grab everything and scarper. Simple, really. But I cannot wait to see when Filch finds out there's two of us!" George and Fred then looked at each other and fell into a fit of laughter. Lee watched them with his own smile on his face; he'd love to see Filch's face when he realised that, too.

"But we kind-of need your help anyway," said George, suddenly calmed. He nudged Fred, who was now grinning at the mini-brawl he'd started between a Fanged-Frisbee and a Stinger-Soap, by dropping the bar of soap on top of the frisbee on the desk.

"What? Ow!" Fred looked up and was consequently bitten on the hand. "Oh yeah," he said when he caught George's gaze. He sucked his on his palm and pulled a yellowed piece of parchment out of his robes. "Here, we can't figure out what it is." He returned to watching the fight but was disappointed when he saw that the frisbee had won by eating the bar of soap and was now burping up lilac-coloured bubbles.

"Uh… a piece of old parchment?" said Lee cautiously, as he twirled the blank, folded pages between his hands. That's exactly what it looked like, but nothing was what it appeared to be where the twins were involved.

"That's what we thought," said George, taking it from Lee's loose hold. "But then, when he was practising the levitating charm in here last night, Mr. Gentle-Touch over here," he tilted his head in the direction of his twin – who winked in response, "dropped the ink bottle he was levitating over all of my stuff, which incidentally, included this." George held up the aforementioned parchment.

"And it's clean…" said Lee as he stared at the object in George's hand. He may not have been before, but he was certainly interested now. An unidentified magical object was certainly something Lee could invest time in solving the problem of.

"Exactly," said Fred. "We've made up a list of spells to help us, but we haven't tried any yet because George thinks you should help." They shared a look that obviously showed they disagreed on that matter. Fred pulled out a piece of notebook paper and put it onto the now too-busy-looking desk.

The twins seemed to notice this too, as Fred mumbled, "Let's get rid of this shall we?" He flicked his wand at the offending mess, causing a whoopee cushion to twitch but nothing else. Fred then started mumbling profanities at the collection of objects before grabbing them and throwing them back into the black school bag individually.

Lee picked up the new piece of paper and read down the list of spells the twins had written in their hasty scrawl.

"You sure these are legit?" Lee eyes both the piece of paper and the boys across from him. They sure looked like real spells, but the twins were known for attempting to create their own.

"Of course they are," said George. "Our dad's job involves stuff like this. He'd actually kill us if he knew we kept something like this… But that's [He gestured to the list] basically a mixture of things we overhear him use in his workshop and what Mum uses on everything we give her." He and his twin smirked simultaneously without looking at each other.

While the action was creepy, it made Lee want to do it as well. Those smirks created a riot of emotion in Lee; he could suddenly see the allure in causing trouble and felt the excitement of the anticipation of it. The Weasley twins were luring him in and he didn't even know it.

"So where do we start?" said Lee, finally returning the smirk as he leaned forward on his elbows.

Fred copied his action and shared a look with his brother. "Now that's what I like to see."

"Well, I say we simply take turns going down the list, casting each spell that comes next?" said George.

The three boys looked at each other before simultaneously saying: "Sounds like a plan!"

Twenty minutes later, saw the boys finally with some success. After a brief glimpse of inking, they were suddenly talking over each other all at the same time.

"Did you see it?"

"What did it say?"

"It was too fast!"

"What did you do different?"

"I dunno, maybe my magic was more powerful?"

"Oh shut up, all of our magic is pretty equal, so don't start."

"Maybe my pronunciation is better, then?"

"Oh, how many ways can anyone pronounce: Revelio?"

"I'm sure–"

"Wait! Stop, look! No, do not move your wand!"

Fred's wand-hand froze on the yellowed parchment. There were words forming across it, and all three boys leaned in at the same time to read it, causing unanimous exclamations of: Ow!

And there, on the aged parchment elegant, old-fashioned loopy writing began to scrawl:

-I daresay, fellow Marauders, some miscreant red-headed fellows appear to have found something that does not belong to them…

The three teenage boys suddenly stared at each other, excitement glinting in their eyes. What was this thing, and how the hell did it know what they looked like?

The ink started to fade, which caught George's eye – who looked back down at it.

"'Marauder'… Maraud… where have I heard that before?" he mumbled to himself.

"It's what Mum's French cousin kept calling us when she came to visit, remember?" said Fred, tapping his wand gently on the parchment absentmindedly. George looked up at his twin. "Aw yeah. Last time she ever came to visit," he said, beginning to smirk again – which told Lee that those boys were the reason behind that decision.

"Eh, no wonder after we kept putting snails in all of her meals," said Fred.

"We thought we were being helpful though, so that doesn't count as pranking. Now that I think about it, she was well rude! Simply assuming we were up to no good…" George scoffed.

"Yeah but surely putting a gnome in her suitcase counts as being up to no good!" Fred exclaimed.

The twins began to laugh so hard that they almost missed the second message from the 'Marauders'.

"Look! Fred, do not move your wand!" Lee hissed. Fred's laugh was frozen onto his face, and it was as if he was so terrified of moving his wand, he resorted from moving his body altogether.

The boys collectively held their breath in anticipation as the scrawl began to form again.

-"Up to no good" you say… come on Moony, whaddya think? Let these 'miscreants' solemnly swear…

-Dammit, Pads – don't give it away! We don't want just anyone to get their hands on it!

-Whatever, Prongs, I say give the gingers a chance. They already guessed half on their own…

-No, Padfoot. Prongs is right – we can't just give it out willy-nilly. They'll have to guess it all by themselves if they are to prove that they really deserve it.

-Ha, 'willy'…

-Always so mature, Wormtail. Well fine, Moony. Always our voice of reason. Let the ginger-nuts guess.

-Well, Miscreants… you think you're truly 'up to no good'… guess the passcode and we'll make sure that will always happen…

The three boys were still holding their breath and staring at the yellowed page, as the last spot of ink faded from it. After a stunned moment, their heads shot up and they started talking all at once:

"Did you?!"

"Well, duh!"

"Can you believe?"

"But how?"

"You think?"

"It's pretty simple really."

"I still can't believe it!"

They sure hadn't started out as friends, but it was in those moments that the Fred and George Weasley and Lee Jordan became so. It was also alarming how easily Lee adapted to the twins only-half-aloud conversations with one another. To an outsider, their conversations seemed mainly like gibberish.

Still grinning like mad-men, George and Lee nodded at Fred simultaneously. Clearing his throat as if he were about to say something important, Fred raised his wand dramatically (which Lee would have usually rolled his eyes at, but found the theatrics enthralling at that particular moment), and laid it atop the already idolised yellowed parchment in the centre of the table.

"I don't know about you boys…" Fred spoke with a hushed tone of astonishment. "But I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The air seemed to tingle with real and pure magic, as a larger and more detailed scrawl began to form over the page…

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDERS MAP